Just Beginning
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: It never was his story, was it?


**Does not follow the canon ending, but then again, when have I let canon stop me? XD**

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He plays with the white gold locket in his hand, his smile bitter as he leans against his motorcycle. He's too much of a good person. The Ankh is on a piece of leather around his neck, the hefty weight the only comfort he has. The other POEs are in the luggage in his attachment to the back of his bike. He had hunted them all down, amazed by the power of the Ankh when he found it. When coupled with the Apple and the other pieces he had found, he had successfully brought Lucy back to life—perhaps because he was hoping for a shot with her. He chuckles bitterly. He can still remember when he told her.

He had entered the kitchen, leaning against the island. Lucy was cooking dinner, humming softly to herself. He had decided what to do the night before, in a moment of startling clarity between problems with the bleeding effect. He forced a smile as he briefly thought about how close they were to their marriage.

"Lucy, I need to talk to you."

She turned around, raising her eyebrows but smiling.

"I'm calling off our marriage."

She blinked, then chuckled. "Nice. You had me going for a—"

"No. I'm seriously, Lucy. I'm… I've decided I'm not the right one for you."

Lucy frowned, knitting her eyebrows together as she turned around fully to face him.

"I'm bringing back Clay."

He knew it. The way her eyes lit up and the quiet little gasp from her lips made him certain he was right. Her heart wasn't with him. It was six feet under the ground, and it would be alive again before she knew it. She would be so much happier with _him._

And he is right. The wedding was gorgeous, and he had stood as the best man, that unshakable smile that he just couldn't get rid of telling them he was truly happy for them. Lucy was beautiful in her dress, and Clay looked so handsome in the tux. He chuckles bitterly as the doors to the church open. He looks as the groom comes out carrying the bride. He can feel himself die a little bit more at the grins on their faces.

He had stood there over the body, staring at it. He had felt anger and jealousy eating away at him. It is still there. The man deserved life more than everyone else. He was trembling as he held the Ankh, the power flowing through him. Allegedly, it was just supposed to bring them back for the day, but coupled with the other pieces he had found, the other jewelry, he could bring anyone back to life.

He placed the Ankh on Clay's chest, pressing down as he inhaled and murmured, "Breath again."

Clay gave a huge gasp for breath, his eyes shooting open as he sat up. Golden light enveloped him momentarily, and he could feel a little piece of him leave himself. Before he had even stepped back, Lucy was plastered to the man again, and he smiled bitterly. Yes, he mused, he had made the right decision. Lucy belonged to Clay as the man realized who it was that was hugging him, the grin splitting his face as he wrapped her in a bear hug.

That had been just weeks ago. Merely weeks and he is sitting here, leaning against his bike, wishing he was dead. He hurts so much having watched the marriage. Clay had been where he was supposed to be, kissing the woman he loved. And she had been almost bursting with barely-restrained joy.

He tucks the locket into his pocket, along with her engagement ring and all the reminders of him. He had a bag of pictures of him and Lucy he had taken from the apartment, every single one of them. He had taken every piece of jewelry, every single memento of their time together. There was nothing left. He had even changed the sheets before he left the apartment.

He sighs, sitting on his bike properly as he watches Clay carry her to their car, their limo, their future, the future he was supposed to have. He can feel the tears building behind his eyes, and he grits his teeth as his hands grip the handlebars. He has nothing left here. Clay has taken his wife, Rebecca and Shaun are in their own world now. His father still thinks he's nothing more than a disappointment, and he has nothing left. He looks one last time as he jams the keys into the bike.

Clay and Lucy are standing there, looking alarmed. They're staring at him, and he forces another smile. Sitting up straight, he revs the engine and gives them a thumbs-up.

"You two were meant for each other!" he hollers as he takes off, his things in the attachable car behind him.

He doesn't look back. He doesn't even twitch. He just drives off. That's what he does. He can't stand to look back. He knows he'll break if he does. He knows that last little bit of him, that precious, tiny remnant of him still clinging to life will shrivel up and die. He knows there has to be a lady out there for him somewhere. Just not in this city. Maybe he'll go to Chicago. Maybe he'll go to Boston. Maybe he'll go back to the Villa.

But whatever happens now, he can't look back. He doesn't belong in the happiness and revelry going on behind him. He doesn't belong in the cute and loving couple's life behind him. He'll pave his own way now. He'll find a young girl who likes men who look fifty because of stress, even though they're hardly thirty. He'll find someone who won't remind him of the happy couple he left behind.

This is his story now.


End file.
